


Heartless (ENG)

by NaitiaClo960



Series: Suptober 2020 (ENG) [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But also, Dead Sam Winchester, Depressed Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Heart Transplant, It's bitter-sweet, M/M, Mention of Disease, POV Castiel (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, Past Character Death, Strangers to Lovers, Suptober 2020 (Supernatural), Surgery, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaitiaClo960/pseuds/NaitiaClo960
Summary: When Castiel fell asleep in the operating room on the morning of September 14, he was prepared to never wake up again. It has been more than 3 months since he entered the list of organ recipients to replace his heart tired by illness. However, when he opened his eyes again after said surgery, he was left with two things: a new heart and the obsession to contact his donor's family. Maybe he will find even more than that.[Suptober, day 8]
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Suptober 2020 (ENG) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951687
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67
Collections: Suptober 2020 (ENG)





	Heartless (ENG)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I had a really hard time writing this one because the subject is pretty dramatic I didn’t want to make a mistake. If you are not comfortable with the topics covered (illness, surgery, past character's death, grief) then do not read. It is a happy ending however, serious topics are only dealt with very quickly at the beginning. Thanks to Amber for her hard work and corrections and Bab for the original idea :)  
> Enjoy!

**September**

When Castiel fell asleep in the operating room on the morning of September 14, he was prepared to never wake up again. He had never been a religiously committed man unlike his parents, and yet he knew that he had prayed before closing his eyes.

It has been more than 3 months since he entered the list of organ recipients to replace his heart tired by illness. Unfortunately, he had inherited a heart malformation from birth and had survived to the age of 28 without being too disabled, but the congenital heart disease had caught up with him midyear. After a whole series of tests and a permanent hospitalization, the doctors had been very clear: either he had a heart transplant or he had only a few months left to live.

The hardest part was seeing his friends and family coming to see him every day with a darker face as nothing moved on the side of the organ center. Castiel was aware that he was not a priority among the thousands of people in need of a heart in the United States, but he tried to remain optimistic for the people he loved. His fight was rewarded a few days ago when he was told he had found a match donor.

For medical reasons, Castiel and his family weren’t allowed to know who the donor was. It was obviously not the priority in the eyes of all, but Castiel had insisted on knowing more and he had simply been informed that a heart had become available following a fatal road accident in the nearby city. There was something macabre about celebrating someone’s death, but that person had been generous enough to help other souls struggling to live and he could only salute that gesture.

"Take a deep breath." The nurse intimated, securing a mask on his face.

Thus the day of the fateful operation had arrived and Castiel was terrified. There were so many things to consider, so many factors that could tip the scales one way or the other. After one last thought to his family and, surprisingly, to his donor’s family, Castiel did as he was asked.

* * *

**October**

The operation was a success. He opened his eyes after said surgery. There was nothing more to say except that Castiel was grateful every day for the new beating heart in his chest. It was with this heart that he could now embrace his loved ones, laugh with his friends and discover a world he thought destined to disappear beyond the doors of this hospital.

Castiel was still in hospital and in the recovery phase, but he was doing well and could be out very soon according to his doctors. He had seen the scar on his chest last week and he couldn’t help but cherish it. This mark was the sign that he had survived. The sign that he had the right to live longer and to continue to build his life away from the health problems that had accompanied him all his life.

He was currently distracted by the television channels in his room — the afternoon programs were truly deplorable — when the nurse came in to serve him his meal.

"Hi Clarence. How’s my hottest patient today?" She exclaimed.

Castiel turned his head towards her with a small awkward smile as usual. He stood up gently in bed.

"Hello Meg." He said politely. "I’m fine, my scar doesn’t even itch anymore."

Meg was definitely his favorite nurse and it seemed to be mutual. She had told him one day that she always arranged to be assigned to his room, for she liked their conversations, and Castiel could only agree with her. Despite her bad girl tease, Meg was now a good friend, always listening and present to support him in addition to being a good caregiver. Her honesty had helped Castiel to carry on in his fight against the disease and during his remission. They sometimes spent long minutes discussing their respective lives before Meg’s pager rang and she was called away. In addition, she sometimes smuggled him chocolate bars to make up for the hospital food and Castiel calling it "a survival aid".

"I hope so!" Meg said, setting up his lunch tray with a small smile." But at least it has the merit of giving you a little adventurous side. Did I ever tell you I have a thing for guys with chest scars?"

Castiel laughed softly, playing the game they both took pleasure in maintaining. Despite everything, it didn’t go any further than that: a game to brighten their days. Both knew how to settle for their already atypical friendship.

"At least twice a day." Castiel joked while leaning in his pillows. "Did anyone leave a message for me today?"

Meg could not help sighing and Castiel pinched his lips with sympathy.

They both knew what that meant. Castiel had insisted on registering on a site that put organ donor families and recipients in contact. However, the process was complex and if the family of his donor did not post any message on this site, then Castiel would have no chance to get in touch with them. Yet he was almost obsessed with this situation. He had this need, no, this irrepressible _urge_ to thank the family of the one who had saved his life. It was something so important and, although he respected the choice of some to remain anonymous, he felt that he would not be able to leave this all behind until he had put a definitive end to this chapter of his life.

"No, Clarence, squat" Meg shook her head. "And even if they did, you know very well that you will not be able to contact them. The site does not allow any personal information or too intimate exchanges between families."

"I know." Castiel replied, abashed while planting his fork in the mashed peas. "But perhaps they will make an exception? I just want to know them and thank them for the gesture of their loved one".

Meg clicked her tongue while pushing the wagon towards the door.

"I know you want to do the right thing, you’re a damn angel with a halo over your head." She gave him a small grin of disgust that made Castiel smile. "But what if they didn’t want to meet you? They are probably—"

"Living a difficult situation and I would only remind them of their loss, yes, I know." Castiel mumbled without being able to help it. "But… Maybe that they also would like to know that the death of their loved one helped other people cope. It’s possible Meg. And maybe they just don’t know how to contact me or-"

Meg shook her head again with a little compassionate pout.

"Even if they knew, handsome, they couldn’t. It’s against the law. Medical confidentiality and all that crap." She sighed before she came to sit on the chair beside him and put her feet on his bed.

Castiel let out a groan of frustration.

"Yes… But there are necessarily registers somewhere, a way to find a contact." Suddenly, something seemed to light up in his eyes and he turned his hopeful face towards Meg.

"Oh no, don’t give me that look." She groaned, knowing that it was not good news.

Castiel ignored her.

"Could you have access to organ donor records? You told me the heart came from the next town."

"And just by doing that, I’ve already told you too much." Meg said, raising an insolent eyebrow.

"You must be able to find an address, right? There must be even a name or maybe a phone number. I mean, if it’s a medical secret then the information has to be somewhere. If I could just put my finger on a semblance of something, it would be…" He moistened his lips, thinking. " It would be incredible."

Meg grumbled again, throwing her head back with exaggeration.

"Let’s say I have access to this information, and I mean maybe. Just giving it to you could cost me my job, Clarence. Why is it so important for you to find the name of a dead guy?" She snapped.

At these words Castiel’s face slumped slightly. He remained silent for a moment, seeking the right answer to this question. Meanwhile, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest and the blood it sent to his brain was enough to formulate his next words.

"Because it is unfair that I survived among so many others." He said." My donor had relatives, maybe siblings, a dog, friends and all lost something too valuable to be replaced in this car accident. Yet that’s how organ donation works. Someone dies and allows others to live. But I know that, if I had died on that operating table, my parents would have liked to know through whom I would have continued to live. I feel _responsible_ Meg."

Castiel took a shaky breath before gently biting his lip while his friend welcomed his words with contemplative silence. Television continued to gossip in the background, but Castiel no longer heard it, lost in his thoughts.

"And yet, you are not." Meg said gently, leaving aside her usual sarcasm this time.

Castiel nodded slowly.

"I know." He sighed again before returning to his plate. "I’m sorry, you’re right. I can’t ask you anything like that anyway, it was selfish of me."

Following this, only the noise of the cutlery against the ceramics as well as the television journalist was heard in the hospital room. Meg didn’t move, didn’t open her mouth either, while each of them thought about their commitments in this story.

Finally, after several minutes of silence, the nurse sighed dramatically.

"What the hell wouldn’t I do for those beautiful blue eyes." She said under her breath. "Okay, I’ll see what I can do about the address." She says while rolling her eyes before standing up.

Castiel turned his head so quickly towards her that he was afraid to break his neck.

"What?" He asked, stunned.

"But I can’t guarantee you anything, Clarence." Meg told him while sighing. "You don’t access their organ donor files like that, but… I may have a couple of people I could contact. But it’s just between us."

She glared at him, and Castiel nodded, mouth open.

"I... of course."

Meg swore softly.

"One more thing." She said." I’ll try everything, but if I don’t find anything, you have to promise me you won’t try to get a name anymore. Do we have a deal?"

Castiel closed his mouth in a discreet snap before taking his friend’s last words into consideration. Finally, he nodded again.

"I promise you." He said seriously.

"Good." Meg sighed. "You’ll owe me one, angel."

A smile appeared again on Castiel’s face, more tender this time, his heart still playing up its own behind the scar of his chest.

"Thank you, Meg." He whispered.

"Shuddup." She grumbled with a wink before her pager rang in the room.

In no time, she waved at him and disappeared in the corridor, taking the empty wagon with her. Castiel went back to his bed with a light smile on his face. Yes, Meg was a good friend.

* * *

**November**

Meg’s research had still not yielded anything even a month after Castiel left the hospital. Although he was now alone again in his large apartment, there was something exhilarating about being able to live normally as if he had not nearly died a few months ago. Finding a job at the florist in his town had been the first step in his new life as he slowly resumed a normal social life with his friends and family.

His own search had also given nothing and the inbox of the website that could put him in contact with his donor’s family remained hopelessly empty. Nevertheless, Castiel did not get the idea out of his head. He often dreamed of meeting these strangers, of the words he would say to them if they had the chance to do so.

It was during a cold November evening, while he was bundled up in a plaid on his couch in front of a TV show, that Castiel’s cellphone rang. It was not something particularly unusual, but the late hour of the evening immediately gave this call something special. When he reached out to his phone, he could see Meg’s name on the screen.

"Hello?" He said, picking up, his heartbeat accelerating.

"Hi Clarence." Meg, a net of excitement in the voice, hastily replied. "Tell me you’re sitting, handsome, I’d hate to hear you fall on your ass because of what I’m about to tell you."

At this, Castiel straightened up in the sofa, his heart going up his throat.

"I’m sitting." He simply said, his fingers tightening around his phone.

"Okay, because I have something for you!" Meg hummed. "The info cost me at least three boxes of chocolate and the promise of a date to the shady guy in the operating room. You know, the one who keeps wearing Britney Spears t-shirts under his blouses? He’d be doing karaoke parties with the girl from the fourth floor that I wouldn’t even be surprised at-

"Meg." Castiel impatiently cut her off.

"Yes, yes. All this to say that he knows who approved your transplant application. So…" She said with pride, leaving a second of silence to settle her effect. I know where your little heart comes from and how to reach out to the family!"

At once, Castiel felt the air blocked in his throat. These words, he had waited for them for months while everything gradually turned into a crazy and inaccessible hope. Suddenly, through a simple phone call, Meg had just remade his world.

"Are you certain?" He finally asked, with a short breath.

"Oh, Clarence, please! Don’t you trust your favorite nurse anymore?" Meg laughed immediately.

Castiel shook his head, a bit stunned. Meg resumed.

"I sent you everything by e-mail, you must have received it." She said with malice. "But remember: keep it under your hat pretty boy. You don’t know me."

"Yes, I... of course." Castiel stuttered, rising to rush towards his computer.

"Hey." Meg called him through the phone, her voice softer. "I know it’s important to you, but… take the time to assimilate the information, okay? You don’t have to contact them tonight."

Castiel knew she was right, but the excitement was in his chest. However, he took the time to thank Meg warmly and invite her to dinner next week before hanging up. A few minutes later he had his eyes fixed on a brand new e-mail in his inbox. Castiel took a great inspiration. He had waited so long for this moment that, now that he was faced with a fait accompli, he was almost afraid to go for it.

Finally, he found the courage to click on the screen. His eyes quickly passed over her friend’s introductory text before fixating on a name written in bold as well as a lot of personal information listed just below. Reading these few lines, Castiel felt his heart racing again.

_Samuel William Winchester_

_Born: March 2, 1983, in Lawrence, Kansas_

_Died: September 13, 2006, in Des Moines, Iowa_

_Cause: Head injury, road accident_

_Blood type: O negative_

_Applicant for organ donation: Yes_

_Organ removed: Heart_

The data sheet thus continued in a professional coldness that affected Castiel slightly as he felt his throat tightening. His donor was only 23 when he died. He read every piece of information carefully before he got to the part he was most interested in.

_Contact person in case of problem: Dean Winchester_

_Donor affiliation: older brother_

Castiel felt his hands become sweaty as his gaze slid over the address and telephone number of Dean Winchester. A heavy silence filled his apartment, Castiel still unable to detach his gaze from this decisive email.

That’s it. The family of his donor was only a phone call away and he could finally thank the entourage of his savior. However, with this crucial information came a bitter feeling that Castiel had not apprehended. He remained all night pacing in his living room, his eyes regularly returning to the phone number taunting him from the screen of his computer.

* * *

**December**

Three months. Three long months since his little brother had disappeared in a car accident, leaving him and their parents in the grip of nameless sadness. He could barely breathe most of the time thinking of that youthful face he would never see again.

Dean passed a tired hand over his face as he walked past the windows of an umpteenth shop decorated with trees and garlands. Celebrating Christmas seemed absurd, totally meaningless in such a context. What’s the point if he can’t see Sammy’s jaded face in front of his usual porn magazine that he buys especially for him every year, for the joke? His world has been tasteless for far too long now.

Mary managed to keep her head above water half the time, calling him every day to hear from him, to which Dean responded with as many reassuring words as he could. Everyone knew that most of them sounded empty, but they could only _pretend_ to be okay these past few months. Dean was wondering if the pain would eventually go away. He was told yes. He doubted that. John, on the other hand, drank a little more every day and Dean felt guilty about leaving his mother with him all day, regardless of Mary’s reassuring words.

The ground seemed to collapse under his feet as Dean looked for a way out. The truth is, he didn’t know how to do it without breaking everything around him. His days passed one after the other in a sickly similarity: work, eat, reassure, start again. He no longer had his stupid little brother to listen to his stories, no one to share his Friday night evenings with and who would be there to support him in any situation. He had his friends left, but, honestly, no one could understand him like Sam did for 23 years.

An umpteenth sigh passed through the barrier of his lips when a rock-like music rose out of his pocket. Already worried that it was still his mother, Dean took out his cell phone. Unknown number. He raised an eyebrow and picked up.

"Hello?" He said in a hoarse voice.

The line remained silent and Dean frowned. He could hear a breath at the other end of the line, so he tried again.

"Hello?"

"Oh, uh, yes! Hello, sir, uh, Dean?" An uncertain voice immediately answered with a short breath and tangled words.

Dean raised an eyebrow. Had he given his phone number to anyone recently? Not to his knowledge in any case, he very rarely went outside the garage in which he worked. Curious, Dean turned into a quiet street to concentrate on his interlocutor.

"Who am I speaking with?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm.

The man on the other side of the phone seemed to take a breath before resuming in an equally nervous tone.

"I’m sorry, we don’t really know each other. I am aware that my call may be unwelcome, in fact I hesitated for a long time before contacting you." The man stuttered.

Dean sighed.

"Well, listen, if it’s to sell me something then I’m not interested, thank you."

"No!" The man quickly added. "No, I don’t want to sell you anything. I…" Another inspiration."My name is Castiel Novak. I live in Waterloo. I know this is going to sound weird, but… I received your brother Samuel’s heart."

Dean remained silent for a long time, trying to assimilate each of the words he had just heard. At the sound of Sam’s name, he thought he was dying a bit more. A kind of _thud_ rose in his ears, so that he thought he had fallen into a pool while he was not paying attention to his steps. Besides, Dean wasn’t even sure where he was, now standing still in the middle of the street. Only a deep and sizzling voice gradually emerged from his torpor.

"I am sorry." Castiel went on after a long silence. "I’ve taken the liberty of contacting you, but I can assure you that I don’t want to cause you any more trouble than that." He seemed to be searching for his words for a moment." I know I could never thank Samuel for his gesture, but... your brother saved my life. I just wanted to let you know how grateful I was, even though I couldn’t replace what you lost. If there’s anything I can do to help, it would be my pleasure. However, I also understand that you would never want to hear from me again... But I can assure you that I will take care of his heart. Samuel really did a lot of good in my life and with my loved ones."

Castiel started to mutter, as if he was suddenly deeply embarrassed by this phone call. Dean was convinced that he had to send back the image of a man ravaged by grief right now, his arms swaying and his gaze lost.

"Sam." He finally replied in a trembling voice. Dean took the time to clear his throat before continuing. "He preferred to be called Sam."

"Okay." Castiel said after another moment of hesitation. "Well… Sam really is a hero to me, Dean, I wanted you to know that."

Dean nodded stupidly, no matter how Castiel couldn’t see him. He felt that the sky had just fallen on his head, he felt completely disoriented. Of course Sammy was a hero, the rest of humanity didn’t even know how lucky they were to be around him. Dean knew that Sam had donated his organs, he had even given everything he could, because he was like that. But knowing that the heart was beating in _someone else’s body_ , giving them a chance to continue to live and breathe… It was something he hadn’t really thought about until then.

"I’m going to leave you, I’m sorry I interfered in your life like this." Castiel apologized again. "I will not call this number again, I promise. I hope everything will be all right for your family, sincerely."

Dean’s heart skipped a beat and his muscles began to move, pushing him to almost scream on the phone.

"No, wait!" Realizing that Castiel had still not hung up, Dean quieted down, a shiver in his voice. "I don’t even know how you found this number, but… Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re from Waterloo? Iowa?

"Yes." Castiel said. "I’m about a two-hour drive from Des Moines. I don’t know if you live nearby, but-

"Des Moines, yeah." Dean replied, stunned. How did this guy know so much about Sam, he thought that the organ donation was anonymous? "Would you be available to meet in the week?"

An umpteenth silence answered his question and, frankly, Dean himself did not know why he had asked it. Maybe he was holding on to a ghost, a hopeless, senseless hope of finding something that once belonged to Sam. But what else did he have to lose now?

"… Are you going to punch me in the face if I say yes?" Castiel asked with distrust.

Surprisingly, it snatched a small laugh from Dean who barely recognized the sound of his voice. He hadn’t laughed that easily in weeks now.

"No." He answered. "I just want to talk, if that’s okay?"

He didn’t know what to think of this situation, it was too surreal. Was he angry with this man? No, not really. Sad? Maybe, but nothing new. Curious? Certainly. There were so many questions that now turned in his mind, almost stunning him. Never before had he heard a similar story and, yes, he was driven to the unknown by the despair of that mourn which he had never ended. But to hell with it, he _needed_ to feel Sam’s heart beating against his hand again.

"Okay, I’d love to, then. What’s your schedule?"

Dean felt a piece of his soul warming up.

* * *

**January**

Their first encounter had definitely been strange and completely atypical. They had arranged to meet in a café halfway between their two cities, and despite a tense start, Dean and Castiel had talking much of the afternoon. Dean had been biting his tongue all along so he wouldn’t ask the fateful question of " _excuse me, can we stop talking so I can put my hand against your heart?_ ". But Castiel had finally come to the point by asking him if he could tell him about Sam and things had been done naturally. It was as if someone had opened the floodgates and quickly, Dean was unable to stop the incessant flow of words about his little brother. He told him the most important thing, from his childhood memories to that weird tic that Sam had every time he was upset.

Castiel had then smiled softly at each of his anecdotes and, when Dean had finally been allowed to feel this pulsating heart against his hand, Castiel had not moved. Dean was almost certain that he had let slip a strangled exclamation, but Castiel had just contented himself with that sweet and understanding look. At the end of their appointment, they had agreed to meet again. They both needed it.

The month of February began on another encounter at the park this time, at Des Moines. The winter was still rough and persistent this year, so they had decided to go and enjoy a hot chocolate near the pond. Dean hadn’t told his parents about it, not yet, but this meeting with Castiel did him as much good as the first. When he returned home, he found himself feeling much lighter than before.

They did not wait until the following month to meet again, and their third meeting took place in Waterloo this time. Castiel had invited him to dinner at a restaurant he called "the best in town" and Dean could not possibly say no to the prospect of a good meal.

March hosted their first meeting in a private place. Dean had taken care to clean up the mess from top to bottom before Castiel rang his doorbell and, seeing the huge bouquet of flowers that his friend had brought him, an easy smile spread over his face. _Easy_. It was the right word to define Castiel. Everything was easy with him, obvious and sweet. He never judged him, no matter what topic of conversation he decided to share with him. Castiel listened and supported and Dean had not felt so free and understood since at least 6 months now. One evening, he even wildly wondered if Sam’s heart had not completely taken possession of Castiel to make him this radiant and exceptional person. Until then, Dean had never known anyone but his brother who could read him like an open book.

In April and several appointments later, however, Dean understood that it was not really a fraternal connection he shared with Castiel. He learned to dwell more on the looks and gestures exchanged. Everything was crazy, insane, but once again, everything had always been crazy between them, and this from the first day.

May marked the beginning of a mental breakdown for Dean. He was definitely falling in love with his now best friend and that terrified him. What if he was wrong? What if the fear of losing sight of the only thing that still connected him to his deceased brother led him to feel faked feelings for Castiel? He had no right to be wrong here, he could not make his friend suffer, for he was too stubborn and miserable to properly analyze his own feelings. His cowardice pushed him away from Castiel — "to avoid making him suffer," he said — and the deep despair that this created in each of them was almost as hard as a second mourning. Almost.

Despite his best efforts not to hurt his best friend, June began with a considerable argument. Castiel felt rightfully unfairly rejected, and Dean could not bring himself to pronounce the words that burned his throat. However, neither of them expressed themselves more when Castiel, after a final overwhelming exclamation, brutally kissed Dean’s lips. The latter greeted him with a sob before deepening their kiss. No, Dean did not only love that beating heart in his chest… He had fallen in love with so much more.

July and August passed at an alarming speed as each of the two men discovered another facet of the other. Castiel had met Dean’s parents and Dean had not seen his mother so happy for a long time now. However, the one-year date of Sam’s accident was fast approaching and Dean could not ignore the weight it added to his shoulders. Little by little, Sam’s heart had become Castiel’s one in his eyes and his boyfriend was gradually filling the void that he felt deep inside him, but this dammed month of September was now taunting him every day on the calendar.

"Would you like to put your head against my chest?" Castiel once proposed as they both prepare to go to bed.

Dean froze, air jammed in his lungs.

"What?" He asked, stunned. He wasn’t sure if he heard correctly.

Castiel smiled softly, as always, before taking his hand in his.

"Just tonight." He replied, as if that explains everything.

And without really understanding how, Dean nodded and lay down with Castiel. Docilely, he had let his companion draw him to himself until his ear rested against the scar of his chest. Some breathing later, Dean was able to discern the beats under the mutilated skin and the world stopped spinning. He remained there for hours, his eyes open but lost in nostalgia and stifling emotion. _He_ was alive and well, determined not to disappear. Not this time. When Dean began to cry silently, Castiel simply hugged him harder to comfort him, without a word. This was so precious to him. It quickly became their favorite position, Dean kissing the scar whenever he could.

September passed by in a bitter sweet atmosphere that neither Dean nor Castiel regretted sharing together. One evening in October, bundled up under the duvet to fight off a new winter, Dean could not take his eyes off the blue gaze smiling back. He thought of what his last months had been, what he had lost, but also what he had found. In front of him, Castiel squeezed the hand on his chest while breathing the same warm air as his partner. Their heart rate was calm and painless.

" _I love you._ " Dean huffed at the bend of another tender smile.

At his words, Dean felt Castiel’s heart miss a beat under his palm and maybe, just maybe, was this the way his brother told him how happy he was for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. I would really like to develop other moments like their first meeting or the evolution of their friendship until they become a couple. However, I had only one day to write and I had to make choices :). I am proud of this work but also rather doubtful of the final result so, if you liked it, please take the time to leave me a quick review in the comments or a kudo. It would mean a lot to me. Thanks again for reading to the end!  
> See you tomorrow for the next Suptober :)


End file.
